Not So Not Welcome
by queen-of-rainbows
Summary: Mail Jeevas is an orphan, recently accepted into Wammy's House, at which Mello is top dog. When they are forced to co-exist, Mello will stop at nothing to get Matt out of HIS room. But Matt has a stronger resolve than Mello gives him credit for. M/M. Yaoi
1. Sarcastically Discontented

**A/N:** okay for starters, I consider this important to mention so here it is. While I think fan Matt is cute (red hair, usually green eyes, black and white stripes) I write Matt using his anime colors (brown hair, blue eyes, and red and black stripes) simply because I personally think it suits him better. So just to get that out of the way. Hopefully it's not too deterring for those of you who prefer fan Matt. . . That aside, this is a Wammy fic. It is sort of AU; meaning no Kira. Additionally, each chapter will be told in first person perspective, with alternating points of view between Matt and Mello. This chapter is in Matt's POV.

**Warnings:** anime Matt, colorful language, Matt's sarcasm, yaoi, and more than likely fresh squeezed lemons in later chapters.

**Disclaimer:** Erm. . . No. Do I really need to say it. I can assure you all that I am NOT secretly Takeshi Obata or Tsugumi Ohba. Although, that would be pretty darn awesome. . .

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My feet stopped just short of the wrought iron gate that wrapped around the building I was to be living in from now on. It looked pretty nice, I guess. I didn't really know what was waiting for me inside but I didn't really care. It couldn't be any worse than the previous two orphanages I'd been forced into up until now.

The first was nice enough I guess. And by that I mean they didn't expect too much from you. Basically, you were just there to be gawked at by childless couples who would never really adopt you anyway. No couple wants a kid who's half grown up already. No not even half, more like two thirds grown up.

The living conditions though. Disgusting. As if that's not the understatement of the millennium. Now the second was the opposite. They transferred me after realizing exactly how smart I was. That was two years ago. At first, the place was an upgrade. But then, the expectations made themselves known. And I mean that in a 'raving nuns with paddles' type of way.

They had nicer rooms. Most of the quarters housed at least ten or more orphans though. It got pretty crowded.

It wasn't until about a week ago, when one of the teachers (raving nun with a paddle) got her hands on an entrance exam for an orphanage twenty miles from where we were, in Winchester. It was a school for gifted children apparently.

I was first in line to take the exam of course, although I didn't really want to. They all called me a "Natural genius." I didn't really get it. Sure, I was smart. I usually didn't even have to try.

I just remembered things. Insignificant things, that normal people just allow to flow through their brains for only moments before discarding it as useless. It is for this reason I try not to pay too much attention to anything anyone says, to me or otherwise.

It's not that simple though, it never was. Needless to say, I passed the entrance exam. The only one in the orphanage that did. Hooray. . . Ugh, I'm such a sarcastic little bastard. I can't help it, sarcasm is my security blanket.

So, here I am. At the end of the walkway leading to my newest Hell. Although, to be fair, I could've bombed the exam on purpose. I guess I really did just want to leave. On some level anyway. This place was bound to have high expectations for me too but from the sound of it, there were a lot more perks.

The nuns said this place was loaded. They also happened to mention the abundance of space versus the small number of orphans. So great orphan/ball space ratio. I heard from one of the other orphans that there are actual teachers here. No nuns wielding heavy wooden boards. Probably its biggest highlight actually.

I was lead inside by a social worker who agreed to escort me. Psht, c'mon, if they couldn't trust me, who could they trust? There's that sarcasm again.

The foyer was nice and huge. As you'd expect from a well funded learning establishment. I followed the well dressed social worker down the main corridor quite a ways. Until we stopped in front of a particularly fancy, darkly stained, oak door with a plaque that read 'Roger' nailed to it.

I watched as my escort knocked on the fancy door. A faint acknowledgment came from within but I couldn't really make out what was said. I'm not sure the social worker did either but he entered all the same, me in tow.

There, sitting at a desk in front of us, was an old man. His grey hair was receding to the back of his head. What little he had in front was somewhat knotted into an obnoxious curl right in the dead center of his forehead. His brown suit was a pretty clear indication, to me anyway, that he was the owner of this place.

The old man, who I might be crazy to assume is Roger but go ahead and do so anyway, glances at us over his spectacles. He doesn't seem too happy from the looks of it.

"You must be our new recruit," he says, more to himself than me I would guess. I nod. Sighing deeply, he leans down and grabs something out from within his desk. He produces a packet of papers, stapled together rather hurriedly from the looks of it, and a pencil.

"This is a placement exam. It's so that we can determine where you rank among the other students. Our dormitory system is based on rank. We place two students to a room. Most students have roommates already but there are a few within each group that do not. We need to know where to place you," he explains.

I find it rather hilarious that he refers to the orphans as "students". Yeah, like that's gonna make us feel any more wanted. He continues, not really caring one way or another if I'm even listening. Which I am. I usually tune people out when they rant but this is kind of important.

"From this point on you are not to use your given name at any time, under any circumstance. Seeing as how you are all here to compete for the title of L's successor, you will have to get yourselves used to using aliases. Besides that, the position of L is a dangerous one, made even more dangerous if you were to use your real name. So, from now on your name here will be. . ." He trails off, contemplating a false name for me.

Aliases? Really? Wow, this place didn't mess around. I was told that I had kind of signed up for something potentially dangerous but I never imagined aliases being used. It makes me feel kind of, I don't know, kind of badass.

"Matt," Roger finally says after a while. Matt?! C'mon, I know he can do better than that. What about Magnum. Or maybe M-Eighty, or some cool espionage sounding name of the like. Hell Jump-jugs would be a better nickname than Matt. It's so boring and normal. It doesn't really sound like an alias. . . but then again, I guess that's the point.

"Uh, okay," I say, trying to sound cool with the idea of being called 'Matt' from now on. I'm pretty sure Roger caught my distaste but chose to ignore it. Instead, he handed me the exam and motioned over to a little desk beside the oak door.

It took me less than an hour to finish it. It wasn't exactly a cake walk, so to speak, but there wasn't much to it. I still felt pretty confident I did well. Sort of.

I handed it to the lethargic old man and waited. He gave it a quick glance and nodded. I didn't know if it was a good nod or one that meant 'you're out of your league here kid, I laugh at your ignorance'. I was pretty sure he wasn't that big of an asshole.

"Okay. I need to grade this and place you accordingly. Why don't you take a little tour, get acquainted with your new home. Come back here in about thirty minutes. If you can't find your way back, ask one of the staff or a student to show you."

He didn't leave room for argument, not that I really wanted him to. I did want to get myself used to the layout of this place, it was pretty huge and easy to get lost in, I would wager. So I left Roger to his devices and set off to make my own damn self comfortable. Which wasn't exactly easy since I'm not really the social type. But then again, this was a home for sheltered geniuses, so I doubted there would really be much communication going on.

So much for that idea. The second I'm out the door I'm bombarded by this short girl, her red hair in pigtails and her glassy brown eyes beaming up at me. She doesn't seem like a sheltered genius.

"Hi there. Are you new here?" She asked brightly. I guess it wasn't so bad, at least if I get lost I'd have someone to show me the way back. Although, I wasn't likely to _get_ lost in the first place, near photographic memory and all.

"Yeah. What do you guys do around here for fun?" My tone probably couldn't have been less energetic if I had tried. I was really curious, fun was pretty much the only thing I cared about, rankings could kiss my ass. I was just tired. It had been a long day, for me at least. Things like this take a lot out of me. She seemed to think for a minute before a huge smile crossed her tiny face.

"Well, we're allowed to go out on the weekends. We have a curfew but Roger doesn't keep tabs on us seeing as how none of us really have anywhere else to go. We always end up back here eventually. There are tons of places to go though!" I scowl a bit, not at her so much, just the option she presented me with. It didn't really appeal to me. Her expression changed to a thoughtful sadness.

"Well, there are plenty of things to do here. Most of us study or play sports out in the fields. Mostly just the guys though, they like playing football." My scowl turned into a full blown grimace. I _hated_ nature. With every fiber of my being.

"um, okay. Well there are tons of interesting people to talk to." Her voice sounded as if she was trying to prove something to me. Interesting people, huh? She wasn't really doing a very good job of backing that statement up. I was thinking more along the lines of an arcade or something like that.

That's probably way too much to hope for. A school for gifted children is not very likely to have a room full of machines designed to numb children's sensitive brains so that they can't focus on school work. When I didn't respond to the girl's suggestions she took initiative by grabbing my hand and dragging me off.

What the hell did she think I was, some sort of rag doll. We stopped in a big open room at the far end of the hall. The other orphans sitting around and laughing eagerly. The girl pulled me over to a bundle of white. . . something piled on the floor, at the foot of a stain glass window. Upon closer inspection I realized that it was a person.

"This is Near, he's ranked number one here at Wammy's. Near, this is. . ." She trailed off finally noticing that she never asked me for my name. Or rather, my alias.

"Matt," I offered. She grinned ear to ear.

"Matt," She finished, "Oh, I'm Linda by the way."

"Hi Linda," I said politely. I didn't want her to think we were friends or anything, mainly just because friends are too high maintenance. Especially female friends, as fun to look at as they are. I'm a laid back kind of guy. Don't really want any unnecessary stress in my life. Near, the ball of cotton that was contentedly putting together a puzzle, (at least I think he was content, I couldn't really tell.) didn't even look up.

"Hello Matt," he murmured, reminding me of a robot. A very squishy robot. Linda didn't seem too surprised that he didn't say anything else. I guess I shouldn't complain, I don't want to be friends with either one of them. Especially not him if he ranked first. I could bet money that he was really uptight and more than likely had a severe case of know-it-all-itis.

"The one who ranks second isn't in the common room right now. He never really is. He's always in his room studying. Heads up though, don't mention Near's rank in front of Mello. He hates coming in second," Linda informed me.

I'd be sure to do that if I knew who Mello was. I doubt I'll ever even talk to the guy. I didn't plan on talking to Near after today either. He didn't really seem to want any company.

Linda showed me around a bit more and tried introducing me to a few other orphans, none of which seemed like my brand of potential friend. Before I knew it though, thirty minutes had passed and I found myself happy to escape the clutches of the evil Linda.

"Kay, well, I gotta go back to Roger's office, he has to give me a room," I told her, trying not to sound as excited as I was. Not just because of my clever escape. Roger was going to determine my future here at Wammy House. I couldn't help but wonder what it was.

"Oh, you want me to show you the way?" We had strayed pretty far from the old man's office but I made sure to memorize every turn.

"Nah, I can figure it out. Thanks for the tour." With that I waved quickly and ran off in the direction of that fancy oak door. I was there within a couple minutes, which I found myself being way too proud of.

Once inside, I saw Roger sitting at his desk, scribbling frantically on some papers, that didn't look like my exam. His head darted up the second he heard me come in.

"Ah, Matt. Well, I have some good news and some bad news." Uh oh. I didn't think bad news was an option here. Just my luck. "Based on your placement exam scores, you rank third here at Wammy's."

My brain stopped for a second or two. Third!? I knew I did well but I did better than like 60 plus genii? How? Was I really _that_ smart? Still, I figure at this point I have more to worry about. I'd need to make note not to pass third, due to what Linda had told me about number two. Also, I had a feeling I wouldn't be so lucky as to not have to talk to Near again.

"The bad news is that because you rank third we have to place you in a room with someone in the top ten. The only available room in that group is with Mello. He's the one ranked second here at Wammy's."

He continued to explain how all of Mello's previous roommates had begged and/or demanded their rooms be switched. I, however, was a little too focused on how terrible my luck was. Seriously.

I finally came back to reality whilst Roger explained that if I ever got dissatisfied with my living arrangement then all I had to do was tell him and he'd find somewhere else to put me. That was nice to know I guess. It still didn't help the fact that I apparently have the brattiest roommate in the whole orphanage.

"As the third ranking student, you may be given privileges. . ." That was all it took for Roger to gain my _full_ attention. I cut him off mid sentence.

"Will I be able to get video games?" I found myself asking, a huge smile suddenly sprawled across my face. Roger sighed.

"Perhaps. In time, if you display your talents well enough, you'll be permitted some privileges. For now though, let's just worry about getting you settled in."

I hesitated for a moment on my next question. Roger didn't seem to be a very tolerant man but he apparently, according to Linda, wasn't too strict.

"What about your policy on smoking?" He gave me a scrutinizing glare that was urging me to elaborate. "I picked up the habit about a year ago, the janitor at my old orphanage would share 'em with me."

He sighed again and rolled his eyes rather dramatically. I figured since I was fifteen he shouldn't have much of a problem with it. I added some incentive to soften the blow.

"I'll only smoke outside. And I won't do it around any of the other orphans." He seemed to be okay with this idea.

"If it's necessary for you to function then I suppose it won't be a problem. Fine, we'll supply you with your cigarettes if you make certain you smoke them outside and do not come into contact with anyone else while smoking them. No selling them or giving them away either." Maybe this guy _wasn't_ trying to make my life Hell.

I was so wrapped up in our conversation about my slow death that I didn't realize we had both left the office and were now in a different wing of the orphanage.

We came to a halt in front of a door that was identical to all the other doors in the hall, save for the '224' that hung in gold on the front. Roger knocked, rather gingerly, as if he would frighten the hostile beast that rested within if he knocked too loudly.

There was no answer but Roger opened the door and stepped inside. I reluctantly followed. There at the desk in the west corner of the generously sized room, was a figure, presumably Mello, dressed in black pants, a black, long sleeved, cotton shirt which clung to his shoulders, revealing his collar.

"What," was all he said, not even turning to face us. Man, what was with these higher ranking orphans. They all seemed to think they were to good to have to look at you when you're talking to them. Roger cleared his throat, seemingly preparing to recite something he's repeated many times before.

"Mello, I want to introduce you to your new roommate." With that, Mello spun his chair around without hesitation. His eyes passed Roger up completely and locked right onto me. It kind of felt like someone just threw about twenty heavy stones on me and they were crushing me under their intense weight.

I didn't really know what to say. So I said nothing. He stood up far more quickly than a human should be capable of and strode over to me. Once he felt that he was close enough, he huffed. Only then, after sizing me up, did he turn to Roger.

"What the hell Roger!? I thought you weren't going to give me anymore roommates!" His voice was so sharp and demanding.

"Initially yes, that was the idea. But only because all the students in the top ten have been your roommate at one time or another and they all requested to be moved. This one, however, is new. Mello, meet Matt. He is number three." I could tell Roger was daring Mello to raise his voice again. He succeeded in making me quite uncomfortable under Mello's icy gaze.

I tried not to look at him but he was staring at me for so long that I just _had_ to. Unfortunately, the deep blue eyes that met me once I did, were those of pure malice. Maybe he just always looked like that.

"Anyway, make yourself at home Matt. You won't be starting classes for a few days, so just try to relax," Roger offered me before closing the door behind him as he walked back to the Mello-less safety of his office. Who's idea was it to name this kid 'Mello' in the first place? I bet it was some sort of sick joke, it was almost oxymoronic.

I had a really bad feeling I wouldn't be getting a very sound sleep tonight. Just when I thought Mello would finally snap and try beating my head in with a table lamp or something, he turned on his heel and sat back down in his chair.

He didn't say another word for the rest of the night but I could tell, just by the almost palpable tension in the air that this wasn't quite over yet.

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**A/N:**Whew, this chapter took a while. Review if you have the time, please. Thanks for reading!


	2. Sanctuary Disturbed

**A/N:** I wanted to hurry up and get this chapter posted just to get it out of the way. We are going to go back a little bit in this chapter and see how Mello spent his day. (oh, note to Americans: football in this story refers to soccer. . . to clear confusion.)

* * *

Ugh . . . It's six already? I didn't get a very good look at the clock before I dozed off but I could wager that I was only asleep for an hour, tops. I spent the entire night doing what I've done every damn night for nine years; studying until I pass out. I don't really even know why. I know I want to be the best but I have yet to rank number one here.

Even if I actually managed it wouldn't last, I'd just be second again the next month after our placement tests. But still, I put myself through Hell trying to beat Near. It is the only reason I get up in the morning, when I sleep at all.

Today is Friday. Finally. The weekends would be a nice, class free, time to study but after a whole week of doing nothing but, I just want to sleep. Unfortunately, I have classes today. Really shitty ones too.

I only have fifteen minutes to get to my first period. Gathering up as much effort as I possibly can, I stand up and shuffle my way into my bathroom. It is so nice to have my own room. Even Near has a roommate. One of the reasons he practically lives in the common room, and the main reason I avoid that area at all costs. It's bad enough I have to see his annoying face in class every fucking day.

I primp up a little bit. It doesn't really matter what I look like, but I like to say I make an effort. I don't have enough time to change, so I rub on some deodorant, just in case, and head for class. I don't even bother with shoes anymore. Nobody does. The floors here are practically spotless anyway.

Trying my best to avoid any unnecessary annoyances, such as Linda, I hurriedly make my way down the hall to the East wing. This place is so damn huge that it takes me six minutes just to get from my room to my algebra class, at full sprint. I take pride in my ability to show up to class on time. Luckily, I made it, with one minute to spare.

After taking my seat, I try my hardest to resist the urge to throw a heavy object at the back of Near's head. And succeed. The teacher, who's name I didn't even trouble myself to remember, drones on about equations like she's explaining it to average kids. It makes no sense what so ever that this women was chosen to teach the highest ranking students. What's more is that it's algebra, not trigonometry, we know how to work these equations already. We don't even need to be here.

I decide not to listen. Her voice is irritating anyway. Instead, I opt to give myself a quiz on last night's study material. I grab my notebook and scribble basic questions and answers in it. I'd have to check those when I got back to my room. With nothing else to occupy myself with, I glance around the room at my fellow pupils. Heh, fellow pupils huh? Yeah right. They're not even in the same league as me. . . well, except Near.

The very thought is always enough to send my head spinning and my blood boiling. I just feel like hitting someone. Thus, I should try concentrating on something else. Linda. . . eck. How annoying. That girl just can't keep her pointy little nose out of other people's shit. Dodger. Heh. He's third here. Despite that, he's not even close to reaching me or Near's level. Still, the kid has the cockiest attitude I've ever encountered. Where I am concerned anyway.

Every single kid in this damn school trembles in fear of my wrath. Dodger is no exception to this, I still scare the shit out of him. I guess you could just call him a glutton for punishment. There is nothing in this room that makes me happy to be alive. . . Ugh.

I looked up at the clock only to discover that I had been pontificating for about fifteen minutes. Class was just about over. Thank God. I don't know how much longer I could've listened to this damn teacher's banter. It's seriously the most shrill and obnoxious thing I've ever heard. Well, I guess it's a tie with Linda actually.

The dismissal bell rings and the whole class practically darts out of the room, save for myself and Near. I'm not going to even try to pretend that it was an accident when I stomped on his foot on my way out. He didn't respond to it, which ticked me off. I knew he wouldn't, but if there's one thing about Near I can't stand, it's when he doesn't show how he's feeling, if he's even feeling anything at all. I would be lying if I said that I wasn't jealous. .. no, not jealous. Envious.

I wish that I could be more like that. My emotions, anger in particular, completely consume me. I just can't control them, and I _hate_ not being in control. It's always been my number one weakness. I would bet money that most of Near's success here at Wammy's is because of his ability to keep his head on straight.

An hour and one ridiculously boring Spanish class later, it was lunch time. Having missed breakfast this morning, I was starving. I didn't even have time to enjoy a chocolate bar. Withdrawal is a bitch.

The lunchroom was buzzing with useless chatter. The girls giggling about their "secret" crushes (which were never really a secret at all) and the boys gabbing about their football games and whispering about some dirty magazines that some kid in the lower rankings got about a week ago. Where he got them is beyond me.

True, I didn't care about the gossip, that seemed to spread around the school like a plague, but you can't help but hear all this stupid shit when you're as popular as I am. Hey, I don't want to be, I just am. Rank is power here at Wammy's.

The tables in the cafeteria were always really well stocked. They usually had quite an impressive selection of chocolate goodies, I'm guessing due to L's rumored obsession with sweets. We were supposed to be carbon copies after all. I'm not complaining though. In my opinion, I'm living the dream.

I made myself comfortable at my regular table with my food and pulled out my ancient history book. Usually nobody dared to bother me while I was clearly studying. Usually. . .

"Hey Mello, finally decided to socialize I see," Dodger chided from behind me. I really wasn't in the mood for his shit today. These little encounters of ours always seem to end in bruises and bloodshed. Mostly for him, which is why I can't imagine why he keeps coming back. I would assume it was some sort of bet or something. As bothersome as Dodger is, his friends are just as bad.

"Hardly," I grumble. To anyone else it would've been a clear indication that I am not in a good mood. To Dodger, it was an invitation. I could practically _hear_ his grin spreading behind my back.

"oh? why not? You might as well. Studying all the time isn't doing you any good. In fact, it seems to be hurting your scores rather than helping them." My teeth began grinding together of their own accord. There it was, that rage I just couldn't control. Come on Mello. . . you know what he's trying to do. Don't give him that satisfaction.

"It must be pretty tough. Trying so hard and losing out to Near every time. All he does is play with toys all day. You slipped backwards by three points this month, didn't you? Man, that's rough." He adds a snicker just to seal the deal. My stomach was churning with that irate passion that I only get when I'm pissed.

In one swift motion, I turn to the vexatious brunette and direct my balled fist at his insufferable face. I didn't really count on him expecting it. After bending backwards awkwardly, almost falling over in the process, he took off running in the direction of the cafeteria doors.

"Geez Mello, irritable much? Just when I thought you couldn't possibly be any more feminine!" He screeched as he continued to make a break for the door.

"Why don't you come back here and say that to my face you fucking coward!" I hollered. I contemplated running after him but decided against it. He was long gone by now. I have to give him some credit, he's a fast runner. It's one of the only things he has going for himself.

I decapitated my chocolate bar before heading outside. I couldn't finish my lunch now, I was too riled up. I needed to let off some steam. After thinking about it for a while, I stormed out onto the football field and grabbed a ball from the storage closet, which Roger always left open for his own convenience.

Kicking a ball around was always a great way for me to get rid of my pesky aggression, when I couldn't take it out on someone's face of course. My opponent being the hideous brick wall opposite me. I would beat Dodger's skull in the next time I see him, but for now, this ball will have to suffice.

My pent up rage continued to flow through me until I collapsed from exhaustion. I really needed some more chocolate. Intending to head back to my room really fast to grab some, I threw the ball back in the closet and went back inside. My eyes caught sight of the clock and only then had I realized how much time had passed.

If I didn't hurry, I'd be late for my next class. What was wrong with me today?! For some reason I just couldn't keep track of the damn time. I gunned it as fast as my legs would allow. Given the fact that I had just spent the last twenty minutes completely destroying an innocent ball, it wasn't very fast.

I got to class on time and the rest of the day carried on as it usually did. The teachers giving us material that we could all complete in our sleep and the students either not paying attention or eagerly taking notes, as if they stood a chance at beating me or Near. Dodger is in all my classes, so naturally I was refraining from pounding his face into an unidentifiable mass of skin and tissue for the sake of learning.

The slimy little git ran out of the class before I even stood up. I wasn't going to trouble myself with him though. I'd get around to it eventually, there was no hurry. By the end of the day I was feeling more irritable than ever. Damn chocolate addiction. Most would argue that it wasn't an addiction at all. It is medically impossible to be addicted to chocolate. So they say.

I would definitely beg to differ. Whether or not it's a medical or psychological condition, I _am_ addicted to the sweet temptation that is cocoa. It's not an oral fixation, as some seem to think. I don't want just _anything_ in my mouth, it _has_ to be chocolate.

Just thinking about its amazing perfume had me salivating. I made my way up to my room, pushing past anyone who dared block my path. My stash was hidden away in the bottom drawer of my dresser.

I broke into it the second my door was closed. I hated the fact that my room was in one of the farthest wings from the classrooms. It always took forever to get from one end of the orphanage to the other. When these cravings struck, it was just such an inconvenience.

Having fed my addiction, I could now move on to more pressing matters; my self issued quiz. Usually, on Fridays, I relax by playing football or sleeping. After what Dodger said earlier though, I just couldn't. I know he was trying to push my buttons but it still got to me. He was right, I had slipped. He was also right that it was tough, it was frustrating. I need to do better. I just _need_ to.

I worked my way down the page, finding none of my answers incorrect. I leaned back, feeling extremely accomplished. Okay, now that that's done, I need to study more. I'll never beat Near if I don't pace myself. This is all a competition and I won't settle for second place, runner up, next best thing, or anything else you want to call it.

I let myself get immersed in the contents of my textbooks, the words feeding from my hippocampus like a malnourished leech. It's in these moments, I feel like myself. Working myself too hard is just my way of life. And it is what I feel most comfortable with. If there is one thing I've learned here at Wammy's, it's that what I have is _never_ enough. Until I reach the top, I simply can'tsettle for anything less.

There is a knock at the door only ten minutes into my study session. Wait. . . no, it's been an hour. Huh, time sure does fly when you're preparing to crush your enemy. I know it's Roger. Nobody else ever pays a visit to my lovely little dorm.

"What?" I say when I hear the door open, more or less just to let him know I'm aware he's there. I didn't bother turning around, I know who it is and I don't care what he wants. He clears his throat, as if to get my attention. It doesn't work.

"Mello, I want to introduce you to your new roommate." I feel my heart sink. I was almost sure that I freed myself from this problem. I don't give it much more thought before spinning around in my chair to face the intruder.

He was truly a sight to behold. A meek little thing, decked out in red and black stripes and. . . are those orange goggles? What the fuck? This guy is a total dork. I stand, and place myself directly in front of him. He looks at me briefly, then turns away. I, however keep my gaze on him.

Truth be, I don't really know what to make of this guy. Now that I'm a bit closer, he doesn't look quite as homely as his messy hair suggested from afar. In fact, I'd even go as far as to think he was very attractive. You see, I would _think_ that. I would not _say_ that. Although, attractive or not, there is no way I am going to let this happen. I turn my attention to Roger.

"What the hell Roger!? I thought you weren't going to give me anymore roommates!" He looks slightly amused by my exasperation. Fucker.

"Initially yes, that was the idea. But only because all the students in the top ten have been your roommate at one time or another and they all requested to be moved. This one, however, is new. Mello, meet Matt. He is number three," he says, his smile growing a tad as he finished.

Number three!? Shit! This kid is a threat. More importantly, he's a threat that I have to share a room with. What the hell do I do? I guess my only option is to break him. That should be easy enough. He looks like a complete pussy.

I turn my glare back to him, mostly just to give him a vague idea of the horrors that await him. He tried to avoid my eyes for a while but eventually gave in and turned his head to look at me. He seemed to get the message.

"Anyway, make yourself at home Matt. You won't be starting classes for a few days, so just try to relax," Roger added before taking his leave. I ignored it. Instead, I kept my gaze on my new victim, just long enough to make him ridiculously uncomfortable. He glanced over at my bedside table, worriedly. He seemed to be focusing on the table lamp. I raise a fine eyebrow and scowl in response. Once his eyes return to me, I turn around and sit back down.

I had the intention of studying some more but I wasn't quite able to. I wanted my room back, but it would have to wait. I'm far too tired to start a quarrel right now. In fact, I think I'm going to go into a self induced coma for the rest of the weekend.

I wasn't facing my new roommate but I could hear him as he settled onto the spare bed parallel to my own. He didn't make too much noise after he got comfortable. I wasn't sure if he'd fallen asleep or if he was just thinking. After a while, I was able to forget about his looming presence long enough to shift my focus back to my books.

In what seemed like only moments, when actually four hours had passed, I looked up to discover I had missed dinner. And so did my roommate. Apparently Roger neglected to tell him when it was served. He must have assumed I'd tell him. Heh.

Despite wanting to just go to sleep, I knew my body had other basic needs that had to be fulfilled first. Like hygiene and food. Since I had to go to my dresser for a change of clothes anyway, I grabbed a chocolate bar from my stash. I could feel my roommate's eyes on me as I gathered my sleeping attire and headed into the bathroom.

This was going to suck. I am so used to having my room all to myself. Sharing just isn't my thing. Still, I found myself apologizing inwardly to the unfortunate, stripe clad, brunette. It's not like it was his fault that he was invading my privacy. A classic case of 'wrong place at the wrong time', I guess. Oh well, it wasn't my problem. Besides, there's no reason for me to feel bad for him. After all, he is my newest adversary.

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**A/N:** So. . . that's it for this chapter. Sorry to those of you hoping to get some story progression. I just felt it necessary to get Mello's view of this whole thing. All reviews are greatly appreciated, constructive criticism and praise alike. Please drop one if you have the time. Thanks for reading!

Oh, side note: The hippocampus is part of the limbic system in the brain. It controls memory formation and the process of classifying information, for those of you who didn't take anatomy.


	3. Superficially Daunted

**A/N:** Thanks to all those who have reviewed the story so far! I really appreciate it! This chapter is in Matt's point of view.

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The days pass like months around here. I arrived on Friday, giving me ample amount of time to get adjusted and whatnot. Well, it would have anyway if I wasn't expected to share my living space with such a brat.

The weekend wasn't so bad. Awkward. But not terrible. Mello didn't say much to me, just sat at his desk studying. He left occasionally to eat and whatever else he does with his spare time. I don't really care to find out. Personally I wish the kid would get K-Oed into a coma so I don't have to deal with him.

Okay, I'm a bit cranky from lack of nicotine. Although, I think it's more of a gaming withdrawal than anything. Seriously, there is _nothing_ to do around here. I've been wandering around the building, trying to familiarize myself with the place. I have to admit, it hasn't been too successful of a venture. When I ran out of things to look at, I would just go back to my room and try to avoid eye contact with the starving vulture, aptly named Mello, that resides in the corner.

This morning, though, was Monday. My first day attending classes. I gotta say, I'm fucking ecstatic. Really, I'm finding it hard to contain my enthusiasm. . . Bleh.

Mello is holding refuge in the bathroom, so I decide to change into my day clothes right in the middle of the room. If he decided to come out while I am semi indecent, hey, that's his problem. Grabbing my stripes and jeans, I strip down to my red boxer shorts and change as quickly as I can. I said it'd be Mello's problem if he came out but it doesn't mean I _want_ him to.

I get my skinny jeans on just as Mello storms out of the bathroom. I've found that I do have to give the guy a mental kudos almost every time I see him. He usually doesn't spend too much time making himself look the way he does. Hair that shiny comes at a price I would assume. Some sort of soul real estate or some shit. Demonic possession would explain a lot of things about Mello.

He gathers his books and chocolate then turns expectantly to me. I haven't the slightest idea what he wants, so I grin stupidly. He scoffs. He's just a bundle of sunshine and rainbows in the morning, isn't he?

Without a word, he pushes past me, intending to go to class. Despite the fact that I had spent the weekend poking around the orphanage, I have no idea where my classes are. It wasn't long before I decided to risk the evil glare I'd no doubt receive and follow Mello. As it happens, the classes are coordinated based on rank. Not surprising.

I had been going to the cafeteria every morning to get some breakfast but since Mello never ate breakfast, and he was my only means of actually finding my classroom, I would have to suppress my insatiable appetite until lunch.

Mello knew I was following him, I could just feel it in the air. He seemed to be okay with it just as long as I wasn't talking to him, which incidentally was something I had been avoiding all weekend.

We made it to class five minutes early. He took his seat in the back of the classroom. Since I didn't really know anyone else, besides Near, next to whom there were no empty seats, I reluctantly make my way to the back and sit in the desk adjacent to Mello. This doesn't seem to make him too happy.

I can feel his eyes on me but I don't turn to look at him, I learned that the hard way. It's just a desk dude, relax! I'm not stalking you or anything. After about two whole minutes of this, he finally turns his attention back to the front of the class. Suddenly, I found myself far too eager to turn eighteen so I can get my ass out of here. The work load, I can handle. Mello's eyes, not so much. I swear if he looked at something hard enough, he could make it go boom.

The teacher, Ms. Fields I think, was a stout little woman. Her black hair, tied in a bun, was graying slightly in the front. Given her age one would assume her voice would be slightly deeper than that of a younger woman. One would be incorrect. Seriously, the most obnoxious thing I've ever had the displeasure of hearing. She's not blabbering about anything I don't already know anyway. I'll just ignore her. . .if I can. It's hard to tune _that sound_ out.

No one really seems to be paying much attention to her. Does she realize that? Eh, probably. Just then, my stomach made it very clear how upset it was that I had neglected it by making the loudest grumble I have ever heard come from myself. It was so loud in fact, that the teacher stopped her lesson briefly to try and identify the sound. When she couldn't, she went back to scribbling nonsense on the blackboard.

The other students surrounding me turned and giggled. It didn't seem to break Near or Mello's concentration, although I doubted either of them were even listening to the pudgy woman. If this stuff is basic knowledge to me, it must be kiddy math to them.

By the end of class, it seemed that everyone had forgotten about my interruption. Something I was extremely grateful for. I followed Mello to our next class, which would hopefully be just as easy as the last one. Once we got there Mello took a seat in the back again. I thought against sitting next to him this time. Instead, I sat beside some kid I didn't know. He didn't even acknowledge me. Yet another blessing.

This teacher was a little more tolerable than the last. She was similar in appearance, short and fluffy, but she had a voice that rested in a nice, not headache inducing, octave. Her lesson was a bit more advanced but still simple to follow. It seemed like she gave out less homework too. Whew, I don't have much to occupy my free time with but academic work is not my thing.

I sat through class, half listening and half daydreaming about the day I get my cigs back. According to Roger, I wouldn't have to wait too long for those. The video games were a privilege that I was going to have to earn but the cigarettes were an addiction I couldn't properly function without. At least I had something to look forward to.

Once the boring history lesson was over, it was lunch time. My tummy was doing flips it was so excited. The smorgasbord I was presented with made me put my poor arms into overdrive in an attempt to get a little bit of everything. I am one of those people that can eat as much of any damn thing I want and never gain a pound. And I use this ability to glutton myself into oblivion whenever I get the chance. Anyone that has a problem with that can kiss my well fed ass.

I really didn't know anybody, did I? I guess that's not a bad thing, I don't really want to know anyone. But I also don't want to look like a loser. My eyes lock onto my roommate, who is sitting alone, studying, at a table near the base of one of the gargantuan, overly decorated, stain glass windows.

Did he ever not study? What does he even need to study _for_? He's already the second smartest one here. Unless he just has that big of an inferiority complex that he just has to be _the_ smartest. Wouldn't put it past him. I'm sticking to my demonic possession theory.

Anyway, sitting next to him isn't an option, and to be quite honest, I'd rather have my head bitten off by a ravenous cougar (and not the good kind) than sit next to someone who would sooner stab me in the eyes than be civil for two seconds. So, having no other choice, I hop a squat at an empty table and promptly begin inhaling my lunch.

I'm not left in peace for very long before a loud, and very familiar voice rouses me from my soup n' sandwich bliss.

"Hey Matt! Wow, I haven't seen you since Friday. I thought you transferred again or something. What's up?!" Linda screams, as she makes her way to my table. Great. Oh well, at least I won't look like such a dork now. . . I think.

"Hey Linda," I say, wiping my mouth free of the mess I created, "Um, not much. Just trying to get used to the place." She smiles.

"Well, that might take some time. So, where did Roger put you?" My stomach wouldn't allow me to ignore it for very long so I began stuffing my face again. With any luck it'll make her run away in horror. Eh, what am I talking about, I don't have any luck. I chew my food in a hurry and swallow so that I may speak without spitting food all over the table.

"I'm third, he shacked me up with Mello." I see the wonder and concern in her eyes grow with every second. I thought I even heard a gasp.

"Mello! Oh no, that's terrible!" She screeches. Yeah, tell me something I don't know. "Has he beat you up yet?" Wait, what? Beat me up? I know the guy has a violent demeanor but I didn't really think that abuse would be an issue here.

"No, why? Does he have a history with that kind of thing?" I ask, hoping she'll ease my worries a little bit. I don't like to consider myself a push over, 'cause I'm not. I can hold my own in a fight. I just don't take Mello as the type to play fair. He's a lot more clever than me and he just has that aura of terror surrounding him. All in all, he's pretty easy to be afraid of.

"Well, sort of. He's super touchy and he gets mad really easily. I can't believe you haven't noticed yet." Well, honestly, I have. Even though the guy hasn't even said two words to me, hell, he hasn't even said _one_ word to me, I can still tell he has some pretty intense anger issues, among other things.

"All those other roommates he's had, did he get into fights with them too?"

"Not all of them. He just damaged some of them emotionally," she explains. Yeah, that makes me feel a whole lot better. How the hell was this guy still here? You'd think he'd be expelled or something. I found myself feeling extremely sorry for Roger. How many times had he dealt with Mello's attitude?

"Heh, well that's reassuring. Don't worry, I can take care of myself. Thanks for the heads up though. Well, I gotta get to my next class." I wave spastically as I make a break for the door. Halfway down the hall, I can hear her screaming her goodbyes. It's not exactly time for class yet, I just wanted to get out of the loud cafeteria and away from the intruding red head.

Once the bell rang, signifying the end of lunch, the students rushed out of the cafeteria and shuffled their way to their next class. Because I had already spent two and a half hours with my newest classmates, I could recognize a few familiar faces. This being the case, I didn't have to follow Mello. After what Linda had told me, I was glad. Maybe if I distanced myself from him, he'd have no reason to complain.

I spent the next three hours trying to keep my brain from exploding out of extreme boredom. I don't really know how this is going to work out once I get my games. I doubt I'll stay third for very long. Eh, I don't care. I'm fifteen, I'll be out of here in a few more years anyway. Then I can hack my way to success and buy all the video games and cigarettes I want. Oh yeah, that is my life's ambition. Awesome, right?

After class, having absolutely nothing to do and wanting desperately to avoid running into my newest 'friend', Linda, I head up to my room. To my surprise, Mello isn't there yet. Hmm, maybe he has some sort of after class ritual or something. I'm not complaining, it's the first time I've had the room to myself. Although, I'm not really sure what to do.

I guess I'll just watch TV and enjoy the pleasant atmosphere while it lasts. It doesn't take me too long to kick off my shoes and get comfortable. There are a lot of religious channels here. Bleh. I don't care if anyone else is religious, I'm just not that into it. Never have been. The nuns at the last orphanage I was in tried to feed me their religion. We had to go to mass and all that junk. Religion is _way_ too high maintenance for me.

While watching old people preach is a jolly good time, I give up on the TV after about a half hour. I do have homework to do but I would rather spend my afternoon with my long time buddy, procrastination.

Another hour passes before I am startled out of my delirium by a deafening crash. Aforementioned crash was actually the sound of the bedroom door slamming into the wall. Standing between the hallway and myself is a very livid Mello. His clothes seem to be slightly askew and his hair much messier than he ever allowed it to be in the past.

His eyes are screaming at me. Not saying anything coherent, just screaming. He doesn't shift his gaze from me at all. I can feel the temperature of the air change significantly. Only then do I realize that he's much more frightening than I had previously imagined.

He seemed dangerous. Too dangerous. Almost as if the sheer power of his mind could make you surrender to him. Like he could draw out the inner coward from the depths of every hero. It was horrifying and yet, it was alluring. Somewhat admirable. Still, I have to wonder what lies in store for me behind those crazy eyes.

As suddenly as he had entered, his deep frown made way to sadistic grimace. The lines accenting his brows coming together to form the most hateful expression I've ever seen on a human. This definitely couldn't be good. . .

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**A/N:** R&R please. Also, I just want to thank everyone who reads this thing. It's really just a little brain turd. The plot is ridiculously simple and lacking in the imagination department. So I'm very glad that so many of you are enjoying it!


	4. Savagley Divergent

**A/N:** Thanks for the reviews you guys! The plot picks up a little in this chapter; a chapter that, for you naughty little readers who haven't been paying attention, is in Mello's POV.

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Who the hell did he think he was? Following me around all day. He even had the nerve to sit next to me during first period! I hope to God he didn't delude himself into thinking we were buddies just because I was _forced _to share a room with him. At least my afternoon classes are over and I can finally work on getting him out of my room. He's only been there over the course of the weekend and he's already driving me insane. Although, I'm sure some would argue that I'm already quite thoroughly insane.

The halls were cluttered, naturally, classes having just ended. That didn't make it any less annoying. It took forever to walk back to my wing of the orphanage when the halls were empty. I always hated having to leave my room. Especially when I didn't have to. Unfortunately, due to my newest headache, I haven't had much of a choice. It was either sit in the library for most of the day or spend my weekend listening to him _breathe_. . . verifying his existence.

I've been spending about 36% of my time out in these bothersome hallways, making my ears far more susceptible to the useless jabber the other orphans insist on wasting their lives with. It also made them more likely to catch wind of something they weren't supposed to hear.

I don't know if Dodger just didn't notice me or if he was actually trying to start a brawl. Given our past encounters, I could safely assume that he wasn't _that_ ignorant, he was forth after all.

"Did you guys hear about Mello's new roommate? He passed me. You know, he's not too far behind Mello," he cackled to his friends. "I hope he passes Mello too. That would be the greatest payback ever. That ass hole deserves it! Someone needs to put him in his place, second or not, he's such a douche!" They all burst out in a fit of laughter, a few of them offering a small hoot of agreement.

I let out a low growl. Now was as good a time as any to get back at that little fuck for Friday afternoon. He's not one to talk, if either of us are guilty of being a 'douche' it would be him. It's not like I go up to him while he's minding his own damn business and start shit. Also, what he said about Matt brought my insecurities flooding back into the pit of my stomach. What if he did pass me? What if he passed Near? No. . . there's no way that could happen, if he was that smart, he would've passed us both already. Still. He _could_ pass me. That thought was not one I cared to entertain for very long.

Instead, I chose to tap Dodger on the shoulder from behind. I wanted to make him aware of my presence. It's not a fair fight when your opponent is taken unawares. That's not my style. He whips around and gasps when he sees the sadistic grin strategically stretching across my face. If I didn't know Dodger that well, I might have wasted time warning him that I was going to pound his face into the floor. But I do know Dodger. Well enough to know that he is a coward. Sure he liked to cause trouble but when faced with the consequences, he turns tail and runs. I wouldn't give him the chance to do that.

As he made to do just what I had guessed he might, I grabbed his arm just before it was out of my reach and forced his body to the hardwood floor. I heard a loud snap as my fist connected with his face. I soon found out, after a few more swings, that it was the sound of his nose. Bright crimson poured from the now crooked cartilage. In an extremely vain attempt to keep his face from being rendered completely useless, Dodger brought his arms up to block my punches.

After a few more blows, I figured he suffered enough. I couldn't get too carried away, there was only so much Roger would put up with, even from me. Immediately after I got up to leave I found myself back on the floor again, Dodger climbing on top of me and swinging his fists at my face in a haphazard fit of rage. Given the fact that I wasn't nearly as fucked up as he was, I could block his attacks fairly easily. Although, he did manage to get a few hits in. His friends, who had been watching without a word, were now screaming and cheering for their pathetic leader.

I eventually managed to flip him over and pin his arms down above his head with one hand. Just as I drew my free hand back for another punch, it was captured from behind. Out of instinct, thinking it was one of Dodger's stupid friends trying to help him, I turned and slammed my fist into my attacker's gut. The hallway echoed with Roger's cry of pain. Shit. . .

Several seconds later, Roger was standing upright again and then he was dragging us both down the hall, in the direction of his office. It was kind of amusing that he wasn't even being the slightest bit gentle with Dodger, he was in worse shape than I was.

Once we were inside the old man's office, he took a seat at his desk. Having both been here many times before, Dodger and I sat in the uncomfortable chairs in front of Roger's desk, awaiting our impending doom. Our headmaster glared up at us over his little round spectacles.

"I expect that if I were to ask what caused this mess I would get two different accounts. Would I not?" He inquires, characteristically unenthused. I take this moment to glower dangerously at Dodger, daring him to say anything that might get me in even more trouble than I'm already in. Roger sighs in defeat.

"Alright, if neither of you will lay claim to fault than I have no choice but to punish you both equally. Both of you are grounded," he says, a completely serious expression in place. I stare quite dumbfounded for a moment, not really knowing what to say. Finally, it came to me.

"You're joking, right?" He remained solemn. "How would that even work?" I ask.

"Simple, after your classes are over, you are to report directly to your rooms. You are to remain there for the day, under no circumstances are you to leave. Your roommates will bring you food when they return from their meals." I can't believe he's doing this to me. I guess what I did deserves punishment but this, it's torture. I'm stuck in my room with that irritating dork.

"For how long," I growl.

"For as long as it takes. Now go see the nurse."

"What the hell does that mean?! " I scream, glancing over briefly to see Dodger stand and walk towards the door, presumably taking Roger's advice.

"Mello, if you disobey these orders, I will make L aware of your antics. I don't think he will be very pleased. Now, please, do as you're told," Roger warned me before turning his attention to an unmarked book on his desk.

I scowl but leave, as the old man instructed. I had no intention of going to see the nurse, I didn't need to. Dodger didn't even manage to make me bleed. I did have an agenda though. Today had been anything but ordinary for me thus far and it was only about to get worse. The last thing I wanted to do was jeopardize my chances of succeeding L, but my patience with my pupils was wearing thin, very thin. If that wasn't bad enough, now I have to worry about maintaining second place.

To be honest, my biggest concern was my roommate passing me. He has come a lot closer than Dodger ever had. He's only been here for a few days. If he studied a little harder, surely he could become second. What would I do then? My life's work would all be wasted. Everything I've ever dreamed of would be dashed. There would be no fame, no money, no glory, no L.

Doing my absolute best to hold in my rage, I storm up to my room. The orphans making their merry way down the halls would occasionally stop and stare, wide eyed, at my retreating form.

Finally, I bust open the door to our room, completely intent on making it _my_ room again. Matt was lounging across his bed, not really doing anything, just like he had been doing the whole weekend. His eyes seemed to dart open once he heard the crash I caused with my entrance.

My eyes meet his. I attempt to make him aware of exactly what it is I want. He doesn't seem to quite get it. That has to be the first time in my life that my eyes failed to display my fury. Not being in much of a mood to beat around the bush, I let my mouth say what my eyes were struggling to convey.

"Get out!" I shriek, not taking the demanding expression off of my face. He stares up at me, one fine eyebrow shooting up in confusion. His legs swung roughly over the edge of the bed as he made to stand up. I didn't take my callous gaze off of him.

"Look, I'm sorry you're not happy about having a new roommate but there's nothing I can do about it. You're stuck with me. And I'm not leaving my room just because you want me to," he explained. My body experienced a series of minor twitches as a result of my irritation towards my stripe clad enemy.

"Get. The. Fuck. Out! I'm not going to say it again," I warned, venom dripping from every syllable. He backs his head up a little, his eyebrow going up even higher and his eyes widening a bit.

"You don't have to. It doesn't matter how many times you say it, this is my room too. I'm not leaving," he says casually. He doesn't seem the slightest bit afraid of me. Yet another reason for me to absolutely loathe him.

Keeping true to my word, I lunge forward, my fist connecting vehemently with his cheek. He topples onto his bed as I draw back my fist to hit him again. Before it can make contact, he rolls to the side and jumps off of the bed. Despite hitting a soft surface, I can feel my fist beginning to swell up from all the beatings it's dealt today.

I turn towards Matt, who's now standing in front of the door, and bare my teeth, much like a coyote seeking out it's prey. He reaches up and massages his cheek gently, staring at me as though I was utterly insane. I could only imagine what I must have looked like in that moment, my hair and clothes in a state of disarray and my face displaying the primary instinct of a starving carnivore. A couple minutes passed in silence before he turned and walked out of the room.

Huh, I guess I won. Surely, he was going to tell Roger. That meant I'd be in even more trouble but it probably also meant that Matt would want to switch rooms. True it wasn't the most creative approach to get rid of him but I was aiming for quick and effective anyway. It was easier than I thought it would be. Damn, he was even more pathetic than Dodger. It wasn't a cure all, Matt was still going to be a threat even if he wasn't my roommate, but at least I didn't have to sleep in the same room with him. I mean, you couldn't have put the Roman armies and Hannibal's forces in the same room and expected them not to kill each other.

No, Matt was still my enemy. I still have to keep an eye on him and do everything I possibly can to ensure my place as L. As it stands now, even though academically I'm second, the truth is that L says Near and I are tied. At this point either one of us could be chosen as L's successor. If Matt passes me though, there is no way L will choose me. I will stop at nothing to make certain I am the best.

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**A/N:** Ah, Mello. Predictable, yet loveable Mello. Two fights in one day, you gotta be slightly impressed by that. XD Thanks for reading! Please review if you have the time! ^_^

Side note: Hannibal was a military genius, born in 248 BC, who hailed from Carthage. He was a great enemy to the Romans and was the cause of one of the single largest death tolls suffered by Rome during that time. Nummy foods for your brains, you can haz it. XD


	5. Substantially Defiant

**A/N:** Again, thanks for reading, guys! On to chapter five. Back in Matt's POV for this chapter.

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I found myself running. Not out of fear or desperation. In fact I don't really know why I was running, I just was. I didn't stop until I reached the small hedge maze out behind the orphanage. I discovered over the weekend that not many other orphans came here. It was a great place to go to be alone. There was a little wooden bench situated somewhere in the center. I plopped down onto it, exhausted from the rather lengthy run from my room.

What the hell was I going to do? Mello wants me to switch rooms. I could easily do that. It would certainly spare me the hassle of having to deal with him. It might even get him off my case for good. Really, that's beside the point. It is my room too.

It's kind of amusing when I really stop to think about it. About a week ago, I wouldn't have even considered sharing a room with someone like him if I didn't have to. There's something about Mello that makes me want to challenge him. He is still very intimidating and I'd still rather avoid a fight, but I just want to ride this out a little longer. It's not like I have anything better to do anyway.

I can't switch rooms just yet. That would make me just as weak as all of Mello's past roommates. They all gave Mello that satisfaction of dominating them. I'm a laid back kind of guy but, who knows, it might be sort of interesting, if it doesn't end with me dying.

Damn, my cheek is sore. I bring my hand up to poke at it lightly. It's already starting to swell, I can feel it. Shit.

I give up on inspecting it for now and, instead, lounge across the bench, my head resting uncomfortably against the metal armrest. It was only then that I noticed what a nice day it was. The sun was beaming brightly in the sky. It's warmth was almost soothing, like a mother's hug. I usually didn't like warm weather and it typically wasn't this warm during this time of the year. I found solace in the sun's deadly rays today though, it was the first time in a long time that I had felt so comfortable.

Certainly there was nothing Mello could do to me that I couldn't handle. If he did, he'd surely be expelled. True, I don't know much about my roommate, but I do know that he wouldn't risk being expelled just to get me to switch rooms, it just wasn't worth it. He is a genius, he couldn't be that dense.

I let my mind wander away from Mello. It bounced around from the bird's lullaby-esque melody to Super Mario until it finally gave in to exhaustion and let my subconscious take over.

When I woke up, the once white sun was now burnt orange and setting low in the warm English sky. Despite the fact that I absolutely despised the outdoors, I actually might have considered staying and watching the sun set for a few more minutes, be it not for the pesky mosquitoes buzzing happily around my head.

Rather than risk getting eaten alive, I decide to head inside. I didn't need to gun it this time and there was no immediate hurry to get back to my room, where I may or may not have to fight Mello, depending on what kind of mood he's in. I can guess that it's not going to be a very good one but I don't really care.

Almost instantly after entering the foyer I am greeted by Roger, who doesn't look too happy. Granted, he never looks happy. I think the only thing that could possibly make the geezer happy is if all the orphans dropped dead, but then he'd be out of a job so he'd still be cranky.

"Matt, I'm glad I finally found you. Would you mind if I borrowed you for a minute?" He asks, his posture distracting me momentarily. I hadn't seen him stand when I met him, so I hadn't realized he had a hunchback. Shaking myself out of my thoughts, I nod. He turns and walks towards his office, me following closely behind him.

Once the door is closed, he sits down behind his desk and motions to the chair in front of him. I sit in it, trying not to make eye contact with him. Sharp as a tack, as I expected, he leans over his desk a bit and inspects my face.

"What happened?" He says. It's apparent he knows exactly what happened but still felt it necessary to address it. I touch my swollen cheek gently, just to let him know I understood what he was asking about. I hesitate a while before finally answering truthfully, it's not like he doesn't already know anyway.

"Me and Mello got into it. It's alright, it doesn't hurt that much." He seems to consider something for a moment.

"Have you been to the nurse?" He finally decides to ask. The nurse? I didn't even know this place had a nurse.

"No, I don't need to. Like I said, it doesn't really even hurt," I lied. He seems slightly amused, like he doesn't really believe me, but, to my relief, he lets it go.

"So, I assume you want to be placed in another room," he says. Huh, yeah right. How dare he put me in the same league as Mello's other roommates.

"Nah, it's alright. I can manage just fine in this one." His face does exactly what I hoped it would, it looks flabbergasted, his fuzzy eyebrows shooting up and beady blue eyes darting open.

"Are you sure? I could move you," he insists, "I was hoping that maybe Mello wouldn't mind having you as his roommate but I suppose that's too much to hope for. It doesn't seem as though you two are getting along that well. That was the point of putting you in his room." Color me confused.

"Why would I be any different than any of Mello's other roommates? It seems to me like he just doesn't want to share his room with anyone," I inquired. He lets out a breathy chuckle, which kind of freaks me out.

"Yes, perhaps. However, I was given direct orders to place you in Mello's room. You seem to have the type of personality that could very well counterbalance Mello's hostile nature. It seemed like it was worth a try, but I suppose that notion was incorrect," he explained, his brows furrowing in defeat.

Seriously. That's ridiculous. Even if that were the case, it's not like Mello would've just accepted me. That's just not the kind of person Mello is, Roger of all people should know that by now. How _I_ know that is beyond me. So the whole idea was that Mello and I would just become friends because our personalities balance each other out? Huh. Well, I don't think becoming friends is an option but I am somewhat determined to make Mello accept me as his roommate.

"Well, we don't get along exactly but I don't need to switch rooms. Mello's just gonna have to deal with it," I say, glaring out the window at the, now dark indigo, sky. Roger let's out a sigh, obviously not all that optimistic about my persistence.

"Well, alright. As I said, let me know when you would like to transfer to another room. The reason I brought you here though, was to give you these," he hands me a little red and white box from within his desk, that I immediately recognize as a pack of cigarettes. They're not the same brand that I am used to but beggars can't be choosers I guess.

"Use them sparingly, you will only receive one pack every few days." I look at him incredulously at first but decide it's better than not having them at all. "Also, regarding Mello, he got into a fight earlier today with another student. He is not allowed to leave his room other than to attend his classes. Thus, you are going to have to bring his meals to your room after you finish with yours."

"Wait, you grounded Mello?" I ask, unable to wipe the amused grin off of my face. It took all I had to not laugh out loud at the hilarity of the situation. I guess when you act like an eight year old, you're treated like one. Heh. It seemed like Roger was completely ignoring me and Mello's earlier disagreement, perhaps due to the fact that he was just sick and tired of dealing with Mello.

"Yes," was all he said before turning his attention to some papers sprawled across his desk. They looked like paychecks. This guy needs to be a little more organized. Ah hell, I'm not one to talk, I've never bothered keeping any of my shit organized. A lot of people say it saves you time in the long run. I think that's bullshit. Sure you might waste time looking for something if you're unorganized but keeping your stuff in order takes time and effort. Not worth it.

"Uh, alright. I'll do that then. . ." I trailed off, not really knowing if I was excused. He didn't look up from his chore. After deciding I couldn't wait any longer for a smoke, I just left the old man to his devices in favor of running outside, quite a ways away from the building, and hastily lighting and inhaling my sweet, sweet cancer. It had been damn near a week since I last had a smoke. The intense burning in my lungs felt like Heaven, the menthol working its way into my throat and back out my nose. It almost made me forget about the painful throbbing in my cheek.

I let the nicotine consume me for what seemed like ages, until finally the cigarette had burned down to the filter, temporarily bringing to an end my slow death. I wanted to whip out another one and smoke away my worries but I knew I couldn't. Really, it was a fair deal. I figured I'd only get one pack per week. Roger wasn't such a bad guy. This school did have tons of money to toss around but still, I'm glad the old man is so willing to fund my unhealthy addiction.

I have to go back to my room eventually though, surely Mello has had enough time to calm down, at least a little bit. Noting how unusually empty the halls were, I made my way up the stairs to the east wing. Gingerly, I stepped inside our room. I was trying as hard as I possibly could to keep myself calm. I wasn't afraid, it was just rather unsettling not knowing if my roommate was going to snap and lunge at me. He heard the door open, his shoulders stiffened and a disturbing hush encompassed the entire room.

"Hey Mello," was all I could think to say to ease the tension. The wooden floor croaked loudly as he spun around in his chair and glared daggers at me. Two whole minutes passed in silence before he darted up and was, quite suddenly, standing directly in front of me. I hate when he does that.

"What the hell are _you_ doing back here?" He asked, emphasizing 'you' as if I were some sort of inferior being. I graced him with one of my goofy smiles, which I don't think he appreciated too much, before answering him.

"In my room, you mean? You know something, you're not being that nice to me. Roger tells me that you have been a very bad little orphan and have gotten yourself grounded," I tease, his cocky expression dropping to one of borderline terror. "If you want me to bring you good food, you should try being friendly, it can do wonders."

"Fuck you!" He snarls. "I don't need you!" I try my hardest not to laugh at his desperation but find it to be far too difficult and end up snickering anyway. It was apparent now that he didn't even consider that I might not want to move to another room after that little episode earlier. Interesting.

"You know Mello, you're not getting rid of me. Try and fight me all you want, it's not going to get you anywhere. I can be pretty stubborn too, when I want to be," I venture. He bares his teeth to me again, a sure sign that I'm getting to him, if our last encounter is anything to go by.

Then, out of nowhere, he sighs deeply and turns around. He went back to his work as if nothing happened. Okay. . . again, I am seriously confused. That reaction was way too passive to have come from Mello. This isn't over, it's just the calm before the storm, I know it. My insatiable appetite can stomach anything that brat can dish out though. I'm not going to let it get to me.

I kick off my boots and plop down onto my bed. My cheek is throbbing still and I know I must look like a starved chipmunk who stumbled upon a pile of acorns at this point. I should go check it out in the mirror at the very least but I just can't bring myself to get off my plush bed. I missed dinner during my nap. I didn't know Mello was relying on me to bring him his dinner, so he must have missed it too. Yet another reason for him to hate me. Oops.

Oh well, there's nothing I can do about it now. I'm tired anyway. I spare one more glance in Mello's direction, hoping that he at least kind of plays fair and doesn't decide to do something unspeakably horrible to me in my sleep, before closing my eyes and drifting off.

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**A/N:** As always, thanks for reading! Review if you have the time plz. ^_^ 3


	6. Sadistically Deviant

**A/N:** More than halfway through the story now! I have been eagerly waiting to get to this chapter, so. . . here it is. Also, sorry if the chapter titles are difficult to keep track of, I think it's cute though. (ain't I a stinker? XD) Anyway, on to chapter six. This chapter is in Mello's POV.

All views and opinions in this story are my interpretation of the character's thought process. They are not necessarily my own. Just so ya know. ( I only mention this because of the semi religious topics in this chapter)

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I realized immediately after Matt returned to our room the other day, after our scuffle, not to pack, but to laze about and sleep blissfully, that he had no intention of tattling. Nor did it seem that he had any intention of giving up.

That being the case, I had no choice but to be somewhat tolerable, seeing as how he provided me with my meals. Despite my insistence that I didn't need him, the fact of the matter is, I do. Granted, he couldn't let me starve, but he does choose what (and how much of it) to bring me everyday.

So, for the past few days I've been biting my tongue and watching Matt, like a hawk, to pin point hidden weaknesses. The only thing that he seemed to care about even the slightest bit were his cigarettes. I contemplated stealing and disposing of them, but that would get me nowhere. He would just get more from Roger. Physical torment wasn't going to do the trick either. Which leaves me to wonder, what would?

As if on cue, my nightmare of a roommate came sauntering into our shared dorm, reeking of smoke, as always. It still puzzles me as to why Roger allows him to smoke in the first place.

I shift my head back in the direction of my book, to make it seem as though I had been studying, not pondering his demise. He doesn't seem to notice, kicking off his shoes and flopping on his bed. He hardly ever bothered watching the TV anymore. I suppose he noticed, as I did when I first arrived here, that almost every channel consisted of psychotic evangelists on their high horses. Religious I may be, but I don't endorse TV evangelism, it's parasitic.

I noticed Matt out of the corner of my eye as he brought his arm up to his forehead and used the short sleeve of his red and black striped shirt to wipe sweat from his brow. The changing of the seasons brought with it an excruciating heat wave. It was far worse outside than it was inside, but I was still far too warm.

I kept my eyes on Matt as he laid his head back against the headboard. Minuscule as they were, I could just barely make out the tiniest beads of sweat just waiting to roll down his fully exposed neck as his chest expanded and contracted heavily. Even though his eyes were now closed, I knew he was still wide awake.

He is a pain in the ass, but even I have to admit, he's quite adorable. He's also quite insufferable. It was then, sitting there admiring his tranquil profile, that one of my most brilliant ideas emerged. A sure fire way to get my room back At least I'd like to think things will play out that way, but it is anyone's guess, I suppose. Still, I'm almost positive it will work.

Wasting no time, I get up, as casually as I can, and walk into the bathroom. It will be difficult to make myself presentable given the smoldering heat, but I'm sure I can manage something.

Within ten minutes, I was as sexy as ever. My own reflection wanted to jump me, I could tell. So, now sans shirt and my pants straddling my hips, resting comfortably across the center of my pelvic bone, I strut my way back into our room and sit back down at my desk. Matt hears me enter, opening his eyes a bit to confirm my presence. I can't help but smirk when I catch his eyes shoot open about as wide as they can go once he notices my state. It's not so unreasonable for me to look like this in this weather, so he just ignores it.

However, the heat is hardly my motivation. No, that's not it at all. The way I see it, if getting hit isn't enough to get him to switch rooms, perhaps getting hit _on_ is. Or, more accurately, maybe getting a relentless onslaught of homosexual advances will sway him. I have nothing to lose.

Everyone in this damn school already thinks I'm gay, it couldn't hurt my reputation. If anyone did think anything of it, they certainly wouldn't say anything about it. My popularity and anger management issues would be enough to keep them all quiet, except Dodger maybe. Regardless, it's definitely worth a shot.

I sigh after a few more minutes, closing my geography book and walking over to my bed. By the time he opens his eyes and looks over at me, I am lounging on my back, my head dangling off the edge of the bed, facing him. He flashes one of those stupid grins my way. I could sense that this one was much more uncomfortable than the others by the way the right corner of his mouth was twitching ever so slightly. It seemed like he was searching his collective for something to say, obviously failing.

In response, I smiled back at him. My smile, however, displayed confidence, and more importantly, determination. It was a smirk of seduction. Whether he understood or not, I wasn't sure. Quite honestly, I didn't want him to. The more confused he is at this stage, the better. I need him to scratch his head a little bit. I mean that figuratively, of course.

And scratch my little lab rat does. His one eyebrow darting up in bewilderment as his awkward smile just grows. I sigh again.

"It's hot," I say, hoping he'll bite.

"Yeah, it's even worse outside," he adds, turning his head back to the ceiling, where it had been so comfortably focusing until I moved.

I flip over onto my stomach and lean effeminately on the palms of my hands, mostly in an attempt to regain his attention. He doesn't stir. I can't suppress the smirk that occupies my lips as I realize exactly how possible it is for this plan to succeed. He doesn't seem at all interested in me, which, incidentally, is exactly what I want.

Still, I can't help but be slightly offended. It doesn't matter I guess, but it's not like he's a fucking ten. Hmm, maybe he is. He's nerdy but very attractive. It's a matter of personal preference I suppose. Call me narcissistic, but I like to think I'm a ten. Again, it is a matter of personal preference, I don't think a straight man would consider me a ten. Unless my long blonde tresses deluded them into thinking I was a girl, which has happened on a few occasions. Aforementioned occasions were handled accordingly, meaning they received a swift kick in the balls. Yes, I am a boy who kicks other boys in the balls. If they're going to accuse me of being a girl than it's only appropriate to make them one also, that is, by rendering their junk useless.

"Have you been enjoying your time at Wammy's so far?" I ask after forcing myself to focus on the task at hand. He turns his attention back to me, obviously catching the hint of sarcasm in my voice.

"Yeah, sort of." I could tell he was even more confused by my sudden efforts to strike up a conversation.

"Good," I pause, laying out my strategy before continuing, "You know, those goggles obscure your eyes. You should take them off every now and then." He chuckles lightly.

"Naw, I'm way too used to the orange hue, the world is just too over stimulating in color," he confesses. Huh, that's lame.

"No it isn't," I say, sounding rather insulted, "It's beautiful. How long has it been since you have seen the world in other shades besides orange?" He scoffs, then lets out short bursts of laughter.

"I don't wear them in the shower or when I sleep. It's been a few years since I actually _looked_ at the world without my goggles but I don't feel like I'm missing too much." For some reason, unbeknownst to me, I find that knowledge somewhat sad. I personally find it to be a blessing that I am able to gaze upon God's creations so freely. I doubt He ever intended for His beautiful world to be clouded by a murky orange tint.

"Well, you should try it more often." I suggest. He seems to briefly consider it before turning back to the ceiling.

"Nah, I like my goggles. Besides, I've been told that I have extremely expressive eyes. I'd rather not have people reading my thoughts via my eyes, that only spells trouble for me most of the time." Really? That's interesting.

I let out a low chuckle as Matt turns his attention back to me. Once I'm absolutely certain I have his full concentration, I pounce like a jungle cat from my bed, onto his. I straddle his hips as tightly as I can, to ensure that he can't escape. He struggles under me for only a few moments, until I succeed in my mission and pull his ridiculous goggles off of his head. I hold them up out of his reach, my hair falling wildly in front of my face.

"Hey! Give those back!" He demands, attempting and failing to sit up. Instead of obey his demand, I toss them, halfheartedly, to the other end of the room. They are plastic after all, it's not like they're going to break. Even if they do, good riddance.

I lean down farther in front of my victim, ignoring his shouts of protest, to inspect his supposedly very expressive eyes. He stops struggling and stares right at me, clearly perplexed about the position we're in.

I'm quite unprepared for the breathtaking shades of blue I find in his mesmerizing irises. I wasn't even aware eyes _could_ be that intense. They were made all the more amazing by the soft wisps of dark chestnut locks falling haphazardly around them. Expressive indeed. He was somewhat easy to read with the goggles on, but now, with them off, his very soul was exposed. At this point, I owned him.

He seemed to be taking in my color scheme for a few moments before noticing how deeply I was gazing at him. After a minute or so he began squirming a little, I think just to let me know that I did what I set out to do, so I could get off of him now.

Instead, I leaned down farther, keeping my eyes locked onto his. Our noses were a mere millimeter from touching. My hair was cascading in front of me, ghosting lightly over his cheeks. In that moment, his beautiful eyes went from displaying discomfort to exhibiting fear and panic. Check and mate.

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**A/N:** Oh yeah, I am sooo going to end it there. Cliff hangers are always fun, right?. . . . no? Yeah, I guess they do kind of suck. Reviews are always appreciated.


	7. Serious Doubt

**A/N:** Thanks for all the reviews guys. On to chapter seven! Back in Matt's POV.

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He was staring me down, into the very depths of my soul. He knew he had me completely under his control. Not physically, but mentally. His piercing deep blue eyes were pinning me down beneath him. His nose brushes up against mine, his devious smirk still in place. My mind is nothing more than a lump of gelatin. I feel like it should be obvious what he wants and why he wants it, but for the life of me, I can't muster enough brain power to make sense of it.

The only thing that was capable of holding my attention in this awkward moment were his eyes. The same eyes that, only a day ago, were glaring at me with a scorching spark of hatred. Now, they were softer, if only slightly, and yet they were still glistening with a hint of mischief and discovery.

I only manage to awaken from my Mello-induced state of hypnosis when a wandering hand worked its way up my striped shirt, stroking my abs gently. My brain turned itself back on immediately.

"Woah! What are you doing?!" I squeal, sounding a lot less firm than I would have liked, urging his hand out from under my shirt. He doesn't seem detoured at all, glancing up at me, still smirking. That is never a good sign.

"You looked hot too, I was just trying to cool you down a little," he explained, making it too obvious that his objective was anything but making me cooler. His tone was dripping with seduction.

"Well, I'm not. I'm fine," I manage to spit out, all the while making to sit up. His hands firmly around my forearms prevent me from my goal. He lets out a barely audible snicker.

"Yeah, you are," He says suggestively, smirking even wider than before. I guess I set myself up for that one. I deserved that. Mello=1, Matt=0.

"Look, dude," I practically bark, adding 'dude' for dramatic effect, "I don't care if you're gay, but I'm not. Kay? So, uh, get off me please." He lets out a hardy laugh, bouncing slightly on my stomach as he does so. He isn't very heavy, which surprises me a bit. The guy eats a million chocolate bars a day. You'd think the calories would catch up with him eventually. I bet it has something to do with that demon who lives in his soul and bestows upon him his wonderful hair.

"You don't have to be. Besides, you're too cute to ignore." I feel my face grow extremely hot, as it does when I blush furiously. A terrible involuntary habit of mine that has been known to make an embarrassing situation all the more humiliating. Damn facial anatomy. . .

"Be that as it may, I'm not interested. Now, get off of me." My situation is insanely uncomfortable and awkward, and so I find myself resorting to sarcasm, which always seems to make a dreadful situation almost disappear.

Mello's seductive smirk instantly turned into a very unpleasant grimace. It seemed that demanding he get off was a little more threatening in his eyes than asking politely. He tightened his grip on my forearms and forced them into the mattress. My knee jerk reaction was to struggle against him but I found all too quickly that he had the upper hand given our current position.

"Okay, fine. What is it you want from me then?" I ask feebly, playing my hand very carefully. His smirk swiftly returned.

"What do you think?" His tone wasn't condescending. It seemed he was genuinely curious as to what I thought he wanted. I didn't really know how to answer him though. I knew he wanted me to change rooms, which could indeed account for this very odd behavior. On the other hand, it seems a little bit like overkill to me. He hardly even attempted physical combat, not that I want him to start now.

"Um, rape?" My uncertainty oozed out of my throat as I felt the pressure growing to answer his question. His brows furrowed a bit before a small smile worked its way onto his face.

"I'm not interested in raping you. That wouldn't be any fun, now would it?" He lowers his head even further, so that his lips are hovering just above my own, his breath ghosting across my face. "Besides, it's not rape if both participants are willing." I can't see his lips anymore, due to the fact that his face is so close, but I can hear his smirk grow yet again.

In his brief moment of distraction, I managed to push myself up hard enough to knock him off of me. The second I am free from his death grip, I take off, hoping to God he wouldn't follow me. Yeah, I am running again. This time it _is_ because I am scared.

I'm not afraid of Mello so much. I am afraid that Mello may have noticed that I was lying. Not only to him, but to myself. I told him to get off, that I wasn't interested. Now, I'm not so sure that's what I really wanted.

Finding my way to the little hedge maze behind the school, I fall harshly onto my bench. I don't have my goggles due to my haste to get out of our room. The room I shared with Mello. The room I would eventually have to go back to. I really don't want to this time. If I don't though, what would all of this resilience have been for?

This guy is impossible! It's obvious he's trying to make me uncomfortable. He succeeded, although, probably not in the way he would have liked. My sexuality has been a mystery to me for quite some time. I know I'm not completely gay but I've been known to turn my head in some guy's direction before, a mental slap promptly followed most of the time. And I've always been extremely fond of the female anatomy, of course.

I'd be lying if I said that I wasn't attracted to Mello a little. Sure, he's a guy, but he's a very beautiful guy. Something tells me that if he heard me call him 'beautiful' he would murder me in the most painful way possible. It's meant to be a compliment but I doubt he'd take it as such. That isn't the only reason I don't plan on telling him I think that though.

The problem at hand is that I do like being close to him, in a non-violent situation, and so do the involuntary processes of my very teenage male body. Why, then, did I run? I can't fully explain that. It isn't like he was doing it because he actually likes me. He hates me. Again I say, overkill.

I can't help but wonder how far that little charade would have gotten had I not run away. Mello was quite relentless. Heh.

I need a smoke. Seriously. Luckily, unlike my poor goggles, I have those on my person. I pull one out and light it. Almost immediately, I am at peace. Ah, the healing power of a good puff of nicotine. . .

Now, what to do about my impossible roommate? He's using a new tactic to get me out of the room. It would sure throw him for a loop if it didn't work. I guess I'm a bit of a hypocrite by saying Mello's method is overkill when I am seriously considering countering it with such defiance. I can be pretty relentless too, when I want to be that is. The easiest way to win this battle is to pretend there isn't one. Note: this strategy is not recommended in any other form of warfare.

Remaining indifferent is a classic way to infuriate someone with an already rotten temper. It's like elementary school all over again. Fun. Although, there is one very big difference between this feud and the ones an eight year old might have. That is, both Mello and I are ridiculously stubborn. One of us is going to have to call a truce eventually. I wonder who it's going to be.

Once my cigarette was nothing more than a filter, I dropped it on the ground and snuffed it out by kicking some dirt on it. The last thing I wanted to do was set fire to my safe haven. I ran out of the room in such a rush, I had no time to put my damn shoes back on. I can't help but be concerned about the condition of my belongings. Mello's probably not too happy about what I did, even though he started that whole mess. I can only imagine what kind of danger my goggles might be in. I hope, for Mello's sake, they're still in one piece. He can embarrass the Hell out of me all he wants but if he breaks my goggles, there will be bloodshed.

The fact that I have to go back to my room is bad enough, but now I have to do it without my goggles. I hope I don't run into any of my classmates. For some reason, I need to have my guard up if my goggles aren't covering my eyes. It worries me to think of anyone seeing me without them. Besides, I've had them for as long as I can remember. The orange haze is comforting. It's getting pretty late though, I think it might even be dinner time.

I don't want to go anywhere without my goggles but I'm starving. A meal would really do me some good. I'd probably be thinking a lot more clearly if I ate anyway. So, with no further hesitation, I stand and make my way to the cafeteria.

It's buzzing, as always. The other orphans carrying on happily, completely unaware of the madness ensuing in number two and three's shared bedroom. Speaking of number two, where is he? Did he come down for dinner, or did he just grab another candy bar?

Rather than worry about it further, I get in line to get some meatloaf and salad. Despite the fact that L, supposedly, eats nothing but sweets, we're expected to eat very healthy meals. Salad was a regular on the menu. As was any sort of meat.

After receiving my food, I made to sit in my usual spot, only to discover it was occupied by my lovely roommate, munching happily on his salad. It was a wonder he was down here at all and not studying meticulously up in our room, like he so often did instead of eating dinner. His eyes meet mine, so I walk casually over to the seat next to him and sit. I decide it best to let him be the first to break the silence. He doesn't.

We sit quietly for about ten minutes. Once he finishes his food, he stands and walks out of the cafeteria calmly. I'm left to wonder what just happened. It was completely bizarre and out of character for Mello. He seemed quite serene. Even more strange was the fact that, even though he didn't say anything, it was an act of peace.

Maybe this whole thing isn't a charade. Maybe he really does like me. We've managed to go a few days without incident. Sure, that doesn't mean he likes me, but it could mean he doesn't _hate_ me.

Nah. That's ridiculous. I have no idea what that little exchange meant, but he definitely hates me. I can prove it.

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**A/N:** Whew. Reviews still super duper appreciated. ^_^

**Side Note:** Matt refers to his facial anatomy whilst blushing early in the chapter. He is talking about how the anatomy of facial cells and tissue differ from the anatomy of the rest of the human body. Blood vessels in the cheeks are generally wider and closer to the surface. Also there is less tissue fluid in that region, thus creating more visibility for the increased blood flow that causes blushing. XD I always think it's nice when I learn something when reading fics. A nugget of knowledge for you all!


	8. Shameless Disaster

**A/N:** Thanks for the reviews, guys! This chapter is also in Matt's POV. Enjoy!

**Warning:** I stopped doing these a few chapters back but I feel it necessary to give fair warning for this chapter. Adult content ahead. . . you have been warned.

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With dinner having reached its completion and my stomach finally quite full, I make my way back up to my room. I'm not too sure what's going to happen once I get there. I haven't known him very long, but Mello is incredibly difficult to read. He is constantly running hot and cold. That being the case, it's practically impossible to know how this whole thing is going to play out.

About a third of the way through my journey back to my room, I am stopped by my new pigtailed companion, Linda. She practically takes out my eardrums in her desperation to get my attention.

"Matt! Hey Matt! Wait!" I obey, although I'm hardly in any mood to chat idly. Any other day it might be okay, but right now I have other things to do. She runs up to me, eyes beaming.

"Hey Linda," I say politely, tossing in a small (somewhat annoyed) smile. I'm sure she caught it but went ahead with her quest all the same.

"The whole school is talking about you taking third place. It's pretty neat. How's Mello taking it? I saw him at dinner. I thought he wasn't allowed down here yet. He and Dodger are still grounded right?" Geez, one question at a time please.

"Uh, yeah, he's still grounded. I don't know why he came down, he's defiant like that I guess. He's been acting stubborn and moody, as one would expect from him." She lets out a little giggle.

"Oh, sorry to hear that. Are you on your way back to your room?" Is that an opening I sense? Why, yes, I believe it is.

"Yeah. In fact, I'm kind of in a hurry. Loads of studying to do, you know how it is. We'll continue this conversation tomorrow, yeah?" She has to be tired of trying to strike up conversations with me only to have me dismiss myself right away. She is a genius as well, I'm sure she's gotten the hint. I guess she's just obstinate.

Taking the opportunity that recently presented itself, I turn and speed walk towards my room, hearing Linda's goodbyes echoing down the hall. I never really bothered to actually look at Wammy's lavish halls. Now was hardly the time to start, but still, I found myself processing the décor for some reason. There were portraits hanging from the walls. I couldn't help but wonder who they were. None of them could be L. None of them were Roger. I doubt that any of them were of Wammy either. There were also a few paintings depicting biblical scenes. It is difficult to not be religious in this place, the way it's shoved in your face.

When I finally reached my destination, I found the door open and Mello lounging contentedly on his bed, skimming through his history book. He noticed my entrance straight away but didn't say anything, looking up briefly and then back to his textbook. I wasn't sure if he wanted the door open or not, but I knew I certainly didn't, so I clicked it shut. Mello shot me a questioning glance, again very briefly. I knew exactly what he was thinking, much to his chagrin, I'm certain.

"Hey Mello. What's up?" I ask casually, in a rather amusing attempt to catch him off guard. My goggles were still lying, discarded, in the corner of the room. Having been without them for way too long, I walk over and pick them up. The orange hue pulled my shattered world up from beneath my feet and all was right again. I turned my attention back to Mello, who was actually gawking at me. Mission accomplished. . .sort of

If I were dealing with anyone else, I might be able to fool myself into believing that I am on the winning side. But this is Mello. He most definitely won't give up so easily. Mello must have figured his incredulous stare looked foolish because he closed his mouth and let his trademark smirk make its way back into place.

"Well hey, look who made it back." He seemed to be considering something, and again, I'm almost positive I know what it is.

"Yeah. You seem surprised," I paused a moment to stretch across my bed and give my neck a quick crack, "So, you went down to dinner. Aren't you worried about getting into more trouble with Roger?" He scoffs.

"Not really. Besides, I figured you weren't going to bring me my dinner. You ran out of here in such a hurry, it didn't seem like you had any intention of coming back anytime soon." His eyes locked on mine with that intense pressure that only Mello can manage. It is important that I keep my mood neutral. C'mon Matt, you can do this.

"Nah, I would've brought you food. Wouldn't want you to disintegrate up here," I mutter, flicking on the TV. I wasn't at all interested in the crazy evangelists, it was more or less a way to make myself appear indifferent. Maybe it was a bit much, considering the fact Mello knows damn well that I don't watch TV around here anymore. He seems too worked up to take notice though.

"Well that's good to know," he says, sounding rather irked, "You know Matt, I believe we have some unfinished business to tend to." He stands swiftly and swaggers over to the edge of my bed. Damn.

He plops down beside me, grabbing the remote out of my hand and flicking the TV off. There was an unidentifiable gleam in Mello's eyes as he turned back to me. It certainly wasn't there before. It seemed genuine, whatever it was.

His hand strayed from his side to stroke my thigh. The gesture felt fairly innocent considering the location he chose. For a split second, I saw on his face a smile. Not a smirk, as was custom for him. A smile. It was breathtaking. Any human would be doomed to cater to him if faced with his epic smile. He had the ability to look more evil than you could ever imagine, yet he could also appear saintly, when he isn't even trying to, it seems.

"Do you trust me?" He asks, out of the blue. What does he mean by that? I am kind of confused but I'm far too determined to let my calamity falter.

"What reasons have you given me not to trust you Mello?" I respond, making my sarcasm evident. He doesn't appear too amused.

"I'm just curious. It would be wrong for me not to tell you that I can't be held accountable for my actions, in your presence anyway." His words were making me a little nervous, but I couldn't let him know that. After all, it's not like he means it.

"Oh yeah, 'cause I'm just that sexy, right?" I tease. His eyes glisten with mischief momentarily before he swings his leg over my thighs and straddles me, much like he had been earlier. His hand moves upward, to my chest, the pressure of it making breathing a little more difficult. It is clear that Mello isn't too happy about this situation. Rightfully so, I suppose.

"You're acting very different Matt. Why is that?" He is smirking, as he usually does, but this time it is not natural, it is forced. His eyes, soft only moments ago, are now burning a hole through me. Still, it is important for me to keep calm. I can't allow myself to yield to him. So, I mimic his smirk and grace him with my most arrogant glare.

"Because you won't go through with it." His eyes dart open as he inhales sharply. He is finally aware I am privy to him. I'm sure he already was, but now he knows that I'm not afraid of him or his new plan.

"Oh. You're so sure of that, are you? What makes you so certain?" He is trying to keep a cool head, but he's failing quite dreadfully. It's no use, he knows he's cornered.

"Well, I guess it's because you're making yourself too obvious Mello." Ah, the moment of truth hath finally arrived. Now is the time I shall discover my fate. . .

"What do you mean by that?" He asks, trying a little too hard to seem ignorant to my accusation.

"It's painfully obvious that you're trying to make me so uncomfortable that I ask Roger to put me in another room. You're so transparent it's embarrassing." Why the hell did I say that? I know I need to maintain a confident demeanor but that was kind of stupid. As evident by the terror displayed on Mello's face.

Before I could even open my mouth to apologize, his lips were crushed violently against mine. Our faces merged into one mass of confusion and hormones. It was much more wet than I had imagined it might be. I don't know why I hadn't imagined it'd be incredibly wet, the human mouth is an orifice of practically nothing but liquid.

That train of thought could most definitely be saved for another time though. Mello's mouth moving so harshly, yet fluently, against my own was far too much of a distraction. I don't know when I began kissing him back, but I had. Even though I had no idea what I was doing, I kept it going, letting his dominant lips lead me.

It felt like a lifetime almost, when surely it had only been several seconds, since we had started, before I am roused back to reality by a hand firmly planted over my jean-covered crotch. I let a gasp escape my throat, the initial shock hitting me like a lead weight.

Suddenly, I feel a draft. Realizing that Mello has pulled away from me, his lips a shade darker than before, I sit up and draw in a deep breath. He is a little disoriented for only an instant before returning to his usual haughty self.

"So, Matt, are you still so sure I have an ulterior motive for my behavior?" I'll admit, I wasn't exactly expecting that kind of reaction. And I thought it was overkill _before_.

"Yes, I do. Kissing me doesn't establish anything. If I am wrong, than I guess you're just going to have to prove it." That could be a very dangerous statement, given the fact that Mello is apparently the most stubborn person on the face of the planet. Regardless, I can't bring myself to care at the moment. I'm almost convinced that I'm trying to provoke him now.

His lips were heavenly. I can't help but be curious as to how far he's willing to take this. I, myself, have always been socially awkward with everyone. Usually Mello is no exception to this. But right now, I'm not afraid. I can feel a refreshing air of confidence sweeping its way around me.

"Are you calling my bluff?" he scoffs. His body language is almost like that of a wild feline ready to pounce. I flash him a crooked smirk, baring one surprisingly sharp canine tooth.

"Yes. Yes I am." That was all it took for him to lunge forward, ruthlessly pinning my arms to my bed, once again. I'm beginning to become accustomed to this position. Like before, his face was mere centimeters from mine. So close, I could feel the heat radiating from his frustration at my impudence.

As quickly as he had pinned me down, he moved his head down to my neck, where he bit. I jolted from the sudden contact but tried to remain still, the last thing I needed right now was an open neck wound. He wasn't biting hard, in fact, it was more of a nibble.

What am I doing? What the hell happened to that confidence? This shouldn't be happening. I should stop this. But if I did, then he'd just try it again some other time. Not that I'm not enjoying it. If I'm enjoying it so much, why do I want to stop it? I guess I _don't_ want to stop it. Then why am I so terrified? Nerves. It has to be nerves. I like Mello a lot. It would be stupid to put a stop to this. Besides, there is no guarantee that _he_ won't stop it before it gets out of hand.

This is ridiculous. I was doing so well before Mello got the upper hand. I need to establish dominance again. I gear up and, with all the strength I can muster, roll Mello over, myself as well, reversing our previous position. His eyes lock onto mine, quite irate. I lean down and capture his lips in my own, in an attempt to cool him off.

It doesn't do much good, as he grabs me and rolls me ferociously back into the position we started in. This time though, I was inches from rolling clean off my bed. Mello went back to assaulting my neck with his teeth.

Every part of my brain was telling me I should stop this, but my body wasn't so inclined as to obey it. It felt far too incredible for me to willingly end it. I am sure I couldn't stop anyway. Adrenaline is the powerful driving force responsible for some of the greatest mistakes in history.

Mello stops abruptly and releases my hands. He grabs the hem of my shirt and yanks up aggressively, pulling it over my head and eventually discards it on the floor. The night air was cold and unforgiving against my bare chest. It didn't stay cold very long, before Mello pushed me back down onto the bed and attacked my collar bone, a little more forceful than he had been with my neck. My instinct led me to bury my right hand into Mello's demonically acquired golden locks.

As the seconds passed, Mello's mouth moved further and further down my abdomen, until he reached my hip, where my jeans restricted him from going any lower. He groaned in irritation at the disruption.

It was then that I realized that he had absolutely no intention of stopping. The realization was hard to swallow at first but, honestly, I had no desire to stop either. Not anymore. My brain's cries of protest transformed into pleas for more contact with Mello. I don't really care about his reasoning at the moment.

I sat up and took hold of the bottom of Mello's black shirt, lifting it and tossing it near my own striped shirt, on the floor. I hadn't really noticed it before, but even in the dim light of Mello's desk lamp, I can see that his skin is a shade lighter than mine. I couldn't resist running my hands down his taut stomach, finally resting them on his hips.

The warmth of our bodies was overwhelming, even in the cool night air. Mello's eyes flickered with a spark of passion that I had yet to see in him. He brought his lips to mine and our tongues danced together as our hands explored the other's body desperately.

His hands gradually made their way down my sides, to the button on my jeans. I could feel him struggle to undo it, but his lips didn't leave mine. Finally, he prevailed. The button snapped open and he eased my zipper down. He broke away from me and tugged firmly on my pants and boxers until he removed them completely. I was now exposed, wearing nothing but my goggles. They didn't remain on for very long.

Mello grabbed them and tossed them across the room. I have no idea where they landed, and I am way past caring at this point. Normally, life without the orange tint was unbearable, but right now, I find that I rather like the natural colors of the world. Well, I liked Mello's natural colors anyway.

It didn't take Mello very long to work his way back down my torso, to the very spot my pants had posed an issue. His hands were still exploring my abdomen, but his mouth seemed to have moved on. It was excruciating how close he was to my, now fully erect, penis. He darted his tongue out to lick my pubis area, avoiding all contact with my cock. I could feel his breathy laughter ghost over my most sensitive skin.

"You asshole," was all I could manage through the pungent erotic track my mind had seemed to wander onto.

"Had enough yet?" He teased, again, his breath tickling my skin, sending chills up my spine.

"Yes." I gasp. He lets out another breathy laugh.

"C'mon, I know you can do better than that. What is it you want Matt?" Okay, he wants me to beg. . . Whatever, I'm not above begging. This teasing is just too fucking much.

"I. . . want you to. . . blow me." Fuck, I'm surprised that even came out, my throat is as dry as the damn Sahara. Mello let out a little chuckle before finally wrapping his lips around my weeping cock. The sensation was unlike any other I had ever felt. He kept his left hand firmly on my hip as his right went to aid his mouth in the front lines. I couldn't stop my own hand from fisting a bunch of his beautiful fair hair and pushing slightly, urging his head down further.

"Ngh. . . Fuck yes. . ." I trailed off. All words failed me after that, I was starting to see white. For a moment anyway, before all the intoxicating sensations just stopped. I opened my eyes, which had closed involuntarily, to glare disbelievingly at Mello and my abandoned hard on. Mello licked his lips seductively, all the while shooting me a devious glare of his own.

"What the fuck Mello? Not cool," I grunt.

"Calm down stud," Mello spat sarcastically as he fiddled with the button on his own pants. He finally undid it and squirmed out of them, throwing them across the room. We were going to have a hard time finding all our clothes when this is over.

"Give me a second," he says, standing up and darting over to his dresser. He returned back to my bed seconds later with a little tube. I looked closely at it, trying as hard as I could to focus. My brain was still somewhere else but I managed.

"Lotion?" I giggled. Later, I might just be embarrassed for giggling but right now I don't care.

"Yeah, well, it's all that I have. I don't suppose you have any lube?" Well, he got me there.

"Lotion it is then." At my confirmation, he opened the tube and squirted some of the creamy substance into his palm. Then my brain started working again. What the hell did we need lotion for anyway? Penetration? He doesn't expect me to be on the receiving end, right?

Mello grabbed my hand and squirted some of the vanilla scented lotion onto my fingers. He rubbed his hands together, spreading the lotion around, then abruptly grasped my cock. He coated it thoroughly then scooted up my body so that he was straddling my lap. It was clear that he had no intention of dominating me. That doesn't seem much like Mello. Then again, he's in control here, and he knows it. That fact alone seems like it'd be enough for him.

Without further hesitation, I rubbed my lotion slicked fingers together and moved my hand down to my roommate's ass. My middle finger slides in easily, it's still an incredibly tight fit. Mello gasps but lowers himself so that I'm forced to push it in deeper. I slip in my index finger, in response to which Mello groans. It doesn't seem to be hurting him too much. So, I go ahead and add my ring finger to the equation. This time he lets out a slightly pained grunt.

He adjusts to the sensation after a minute or two. I capture his lips in a quick kiss before withdrawing my fingers from him. He positions himself accordingly, barely allowing any time to mentally prepare, before forcing my cock into his entrance. His anal walls gripping tightly to my already tortured erection.

An agonized scream tore through his throat. I kept my hands tightly in place on his hips to steady him. His fingernails dug mercilessly into my shoulder as he tried to get used to the intrusion.

"Are. . . are you alright?" I stuttered, finding it rather embarrassing that I had asked it in the first place. He winced and nodded but it was clear he was still adjusting to the pain. After about a minute and a half of this, he began moving. I let him lead the way, after all, it would probably upset him if I tried to take the lead. He was clearly still quite uncomfortable but kept a surprisingly steady rhythm nonetheless.

"Ah. . . mmm," were the only sounds my hazy mind could produce. Mello's arms snaked around my neck as he let out cries, not of pain, but of extreme pleasure. He began to quicken his pace, until once again, I was seeing white. Surely, this was heaven. Video games dim in comparison to the sanctuary that is Mello's body.

And so we persisted for the remainder of the night, our bodies intertwining together like ivy, all the while the whole of Wammys slept in blissful ignorance. When finally our bodies and minds were drained of all coherence, we fell, quite spent, onto my bed. I could hardly keep my eyes open long enough to say goodnight, let alone try to sort this whole thing out. That would just have to wait until tomorrow. Judging by the slow, steady rise and fall of Mello's sleeping form, I can assume he would agree with me on that one.

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**A/N:** Wahh! Lemon accomplished! Whether or not it was successful, I'm not sure. Anyway, reviews appreciated TONS. Thanks for reading!


	9. Sublime Discovery

**A/N:** Well, here we are. The last chapter. So on to chapter nine, which is in Mello's POV.

**Warnings:** Extreme squishy-ness ahead! Children and pregnant woman should consult with a doctor before reading this chapter. . .

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I was woken up by the blindingly bright sun shining through my eyelids. Even with my sore muscles and groggy state of mind, I could deduce that I had slept through most of the morning. I had, no doubt, missed my first two classes. Shit.

From the bathroom, I hear the shower running. Matt. . .

Something happened that I can't explain. I can't even fathom a possible excuse for why I let that get so out of hand. I was thinking clearly. I knew what I was getting into. I wanted it even. It was evident by the look in his eyes that he wanted just as much as I did. I guess I just failed to think about what it meant. What does it mean?

It doesn't exactly feel wrong. It's just bizarre. I'm supposed to hate him. But I don't know if I do. He's just as much a threat to me now as he was yesterday. So why is it that I don't hate him.

Just then, Matt came out of the bathroom, wrapped in a towel, and bearing the marks of our adventure the night before. He got a few feet before noticing I was awake, after which, he stopped dead in his tracks and flashed me one of his goofy smiles. I got a very sudden urge to jump him but suppressed it the best I could. Damn him for being so sexy!

He walks over to his bed, where I am currently situated, and sits down beside me, slowly sliding his hand up my arm. He's being cautious. It's obvious he isn't exactly sure how I'm going to react. It's almost cute how closely he's watching me, trying to read every movement of my body, right down to a twitch in my eyebrow. Could it be that he doesn't hate me too? After all the shit I've put him through since he got here, he most certainly should. But, I suppose if he did hate me, he wouldn't have gone as far as he did last night.

"Hey, you alright?" He says, sincerity lingering behind his eyes, which were fully exposed and slightly bloodshot from his shower, making his already pale blue irises even more pale and breathtaking. All I could do in response was nod.

Suddenly, I was wrapped up in Matt's arms, the water in his hair dripping down onto the nape of my neck. He pulled away fairly quickly, but not before giving me a passionate kiss. It was rather unexpected, despite the fact that we had already had sex.

"Good. How'd you sleep?" There was something different about Matt. He seemed less detached than he usually is. This affectionate attitude, it's not typical for him.

"Fine. We overslept though," I respond, pointing at the clock hanging above my desk. He lets out a dorky chuckle.

"Eh, man, we missed breakfast." I can't stifle a scoff.

"Seriously. Is food all you think about? What about classes?" He laughed a little at first but stopped very suddenly and looked directly into my eyes.

"You know I don't give a damn about classes. That's your thing," he says, pausing for at least a minute, choosing his words carefully, "and I'll have you know that food is not the only thing I think about." Right. . . I have my doubts about that.

"Really," I say skeptically, " Oh, right, my mistake. Eating, smoking, and video games. Sorry, how closed minded of me to assume food was the sole meal in your mental diet." He lets out another dorky chuckle.

"No, I think about other things. I didn't really think too much about anything else. . . before I met you." He was serious. What did he mean by that? My face must have asked that question for me. "I mean, you've challenged me from the moment I got here. I normally wouldn't have accepted any challenge, it's just too much work. I'm a lazy guy. But, you've just made me think, I guess."

He turned his eyes to the floor, obviously afraid I might respond badly to that statement. Honestly though, I don't know how to respond to it. I just can't bring myself to tell him that he's changed something in me too.

That being, that I have never exactly felt anything positive towards another human being before. At least, not that I can remember. I hated him. I don't know why I don't anymore. The passion and intensity that ensued last night was unlike anything I've ever experienced. His body was so warm and welcoming. The honesty in his eyes is difficult to ignore.

Without saying a word, he stood up and began walking towards the door. I thought he was going to leave. For the first time, I didn't want him to.

"Matt, wait," I found myself yelling, swiftly standing up and making my way over to my retreating roommate, still quite naked. He turned and stared at me, clearly confused.

"What? I'm just going to get you some chocolate from your dresser," he explains, a huge smile forming. Heh, well, that was embarrassing. "You didn't think I was going to leave without getting dressed first, did you?"

"It was an impulse. Sorry." I can feel heat rising to my face as he continues to snicker. He reaches into my secret (not so secret, I suppose) stash and grabs the first bar he sees. He walks it over to me and then leads me back to his bed. I unwrap the chocolate and sit back down, Matt situating himself beside me again.

"So, either I was wrong about you or you are the most stubborn person alive," he says, my appetite slowly dissipating with every word. Suddenly, I was overcome with guilt. It was my determination to win that drove me to do the things I did. But I did want it. And as much as I'd hate to admit it, if I could do it over again, it would be for different reasons.

"Well, need I remind you that you were the one who challenged me," I add, hoping he doesn't take it the wrong way. He just lets out a nasal laugh and nods.

"Yeah, I know. So, now that you've had your chocolate, you gonna get ready for class?" Oh yeah, we have class right now. I almost forgot. Damn. I let this little game get in the way of my goal.

I still have to worry about Matt passing me. Shit. Why does he have to be so damn smart? We really could have been friends if he wasn't. I did enjoy his company last night. Even more, I am enjoying his company right now. It feels kind of nice to have someone to talk to. I'm so used to making enemies, making friends is foreign territory to me. Unfortunately, I don't think Matt and I could ever be friends.

"Do you want to be L?" I asked before I could stop myself. He narrowed his eyes in bewilderment. I don't know why I asked him that. I didn't mean for it to actually escape my lips.

"Nah. Too much work," he responds casually, "Too much responsibility too. I'm not detective material. My life ambition is to be a hacker. It's what I'm good at." I turn to face him, perhaps too spastically. He jolts a little in surprise.

"Wait. . . so you have no intention of becoming number one here?!" I found it much too difficult to contain the volume of my voice. His eyes dart open due to my sudden outburst.

"Nooo," he says, somewhat reminding me of a teenage girl, "Oh, I get it. You thought I was trying to pass you." He began laughing hardily.

"Of course I did, you are third!" I yelled, feeling the sudden need to defend myself. He just laughed harder.

"It's not my fault I'm third. And just because I'm third doesn't mean I _want _to be L. It just means I'm smarter than any of the other orphans below me," he said once he finally stopped laughing, "Besides, Mello, I highly doubt I _could_ pass you, even if I wanted to."

I wasn't entirely sure that I should believe him. He could very well be a bluffing, just to get me to lower my guard. Again, I suppose my face must have displayed my distrust.

"Look, I don't know if it helps but I am way too lazy to study nearly as hard as I would have to in order to be able to pass you."

I don't know if it was the honesty in his eyes, that I seem to be so hypnotized by, or just my naivety, but I believe him. For some reason, I trust him. It could just be because I think, for the first time in my life, I've found a friend. Matt clears his throat and stands up again.

"Well, we should seriously get to class now. You might miss something," he says sarcastically. He makes to walk over to his dresser, only to have his wrist captured by my desperate hand.

"No," I mutter.

"No?" He is staring at me with that puzzled expression yet again.

"I want to skip class today," I'm not too sure what possessed me to say that, but I did, and it was true. The last place I wanted to be right now was in class. I'd go back to my painstaking study sessions tomorrow. Today, I just want to stay in bed. My muscles are sore and my head is pounding. The warmth of Matt's chest is very appealing to me at the moment. More so than my annoying teachers and idiotic classmates anyway.

Matt stared stupidly at me for a few minutes, until I pulled him back down onto the bed and wrapped my arm around his abdomen, resting my head on his chest. He buried his hand into my hair and sighed.

I'm not sure what all this means exactly. What I do know is that having Matt as my roommate isn't going to be nearly as bad as I thought.

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**A/N:** I apologize for the very short ending chapter. (and very cheesy to boot) but that is where I would like to end it. Needless to say, there is a lot to explore in this new relationship of theirs but I believe it's always nice to leave an open ending. I'd love to hear your opinions on a possible sequel or even what you thought should have happened. It's always fun to hear what direction other authors might have taken a certain plot. Love you guys, Seriously. As short as this story was, it is still the first multi-chapter story that I have ever finished. And I think the reviews, favorites, readers in general were the main contributor to that. So Thanks!


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